


Rapt Attention

by Slytherkins



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, F/F, F/M, First Time, Multi, Object Insertion, Sibling Incest, Underage Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism, it's wrong, purebloods are twisted, this is NOT okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-19 23:51:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14883639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slytherkins/pseuds/Slytherkins
Summary: Raised to be the perfect daughter, Narcissa has always envied her older sister's defiance. Bellatrix, however, seems to have as little use for her sister as she does for the propriety at which the younger girl excels. Starved for her attention, Narcissa makes a habit of spying on Bellatrix in the evenings. The problem is, Bella isn't often alone...





	Rapt Attention

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lunarelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarelle/gifts).



Bellatrix had never paid much mind to Narcissa. She never remarked on how lovely Narcissa looked in her new dresses, or how well she could play Grandfather Black’s big piano for company - could play almost as well as the adults. Bella never once admired how gracefully Narcissa floated around the ballroom, or how properly she curtsied to the hostesses when presented. Despite that Mother had always told Narcissa these were things everyone looked for in fine young ladies, Bella never noticed them; even though she was always present for them. She had to be present, just as Narcissa did.

At times, Narcissa would make a point of standing near to Bella at gatherings. She would never approach her - she didn’t dare - but she stayed close, hoping that the compliments showered on the younger girl might then reach her sister’s ear. She thought, if she stood near enough, that Bella would be more likely to glimpse the smiles Narcissa fetched from all the right people, and that they might then inspire something of the same from Bellatrix herself.

Bella never saw them; Bella never looked. Not like Narcissa who always looked. Always watched her sister from the corner of her eye through the spaces between the shoulders of the boys that tended to surround her at these kinds of things, hoping to see the slightest agreeable twitch of Bellatrix’ sharp lips. Narcissa would flash her pretty smile (not for the boys, though. Not really) and she would watch for a look of approval that never came.

The sight of her sister’s long, slender back was the only reward Narcissa ever received for her vigilance. The only sound she caught from her was her slow, biting laugh; and that was not meant for Narcissa, not even in scorn. Bella wasted that laugh and the thin curl of her lip on that icily handsome boy with the stiff smile and an old man’s hue; a boy Narcissa somehow knew could never appreciate her sister’s perfection. Not like Narcissa could. His blasé expression in Bella’s presence disgusted Narcissa. Yet, he was always there, as well. Always at Bella’s side. Always drawing Bella’s attention away from Narcissa.

It was a good match, their mother said. The Malfoys were a fine family: richer than the Blacks, if not quite so old. They should consider themselves fortunate that the Malfoy heir could overlook Bellatrix’ independent streak. Very fortunate indeed because, at twenty, they had feared Bella was past her prime and in danger of becoming a spinster. No, they could never have bought a better husband for Bella than young Master Malfoy.

Narcissa despised Lucius.

Unlike Bella, Narcissa was the very image of a well-bred young lady. After all, Mother had worked so hard to mould her as such. They would have no problems at all in finding her a suitable husband. Narcissa knew this because Mother was fond of telling her. At only fifteen, suitors were already requesting her audience on an almost daily basis. Their frequent announcement was little comfort to Narcissa, though, when hearing it in the same breath as, ‘No, Bellatrix is not in, but why aren’t you dressed and ready? Young Master Nox is waiting for you downstairs,’ and, ‘No, Bella hasn’t seen the large bouquet the Avery boy sent you. She’s not come home since yesterday,’ or, ‘Why do you keep asking such silly questions? You know your sister never comes to tea. She certainly won’t bother with Master Travers present.’

Since Bellatrix had finished school, Mother had managed to exercise little sway over her eldest daughter. Bella never came home before midnight, when she came home at all. It wasn’t proper, of course. No, not in the least; and Mother would have confronted her about it long ago, but then Bella might leave entirely; which would only lend credence to the rumours, would only lead to her societal ruin. They couldn’t afford to offend the Malfoys who would not abide the scandal, regardless of Lucius’ fondness. Thus, so long as Bella went to the parties and appeared for special company - which she always did - Mother was prepared to turn a blind eye to Bella’s unseemly hours and ignore her late night visitors.

Not Narcissa. Though the occasion was becoming increasingly rare, Narcissa never failed to wake at the sound of Bella’s voice carrying from the parlour in the wee hours of the morning. And she never tired of slipping downstairs to watch Bella - unfettered by propriety - draped across the settee, sipping their father’s brandy, and arguing with her guests about things Narcissa didn’t understand.

Neither did she didn’t care to. Mother said politics were best left to the men, which was just fine by Narcissa. Of course, she could forgive that brazenness in Bellatrix. Narcissa could forgive Bella anything. She didn’t mind that she couldn’t follow the conversations. It was enough for her just to hear the low timbre of Bella’s voice. Besides, when else would Narcissa be able to see that thin smile or the glimmer in those pale brown eyes?

Those were the things that made Narcissa’s trysts worthwhile, however much she detested what else transpired in the little room…on all the antique couches, or against the polished bureau, or down on the fine rugs. They were crude things Narcissa had only spied in Father’s kennel when they brought studs in to breed. It upset Narcissa terribly.

It usually only happened with Lucius. Usually. Often, though, there was a dark haired man, as well, whose name Narcissa didn’t know as Bella simply addressed him as Master without attaching any surname at all. Narcissa hated him, too, and she hated that Bella did those things with him. She hated it even more than when she did them with Lucius. Her sister was far too good to ever kneel before another, or to do...whatever it was she did when she brought her face to the man’s lap. Bella was above obeying the beckons of this trash. This mudblood.

Oh, Narcissa had heard the adults whisper about him. His lineage was tainted, yet somehow he was still invited to all the most important gatherings. Narcissa had seen him there herself, in the far hallways speaking in hushed tones with the hosts. She had glimpsed him through the doors to the gentlemen’s parlours just as they swung to a close behind the invited, where she was not permitted to go. It baffled Narcissa. She wondered how her parents could even tolerate such a creature under their roof. She’d have ordered him out herself several times if Bella didn’t seem to so revere him. She might have anyway if it hadn’t meant giving herself away and risking Bella’s wrath, forever ending her night-time, doorway vigils.

If only Narcissa could divine what it was this walking abomination possessed, what he did, that was so special that Bella would seek his company while Narcissa, her proper, pureblood sister, did not even merit a passing glance. It must be exceptional, what this man had.

There was only one thing Narcissa could think of that he possessed and she did not, and Bella seemed to like it very much. Lucius had one, as well, and his was even more frightening.

Still, perhaps if Narcissa had a... _boy’s thing_...and used it in Bella as they did, Bella would be more fond of her. She still considered it horribly crude, of course, but she would do it if only to hear Bella call her name as she called theirs. Perhaps Narcissa could merely find something like to it. Was it really so very different from the candles on the mantle or the cane in the corner? Lucius had used his walking stick in Bella once, and Narcissa could do that. In fact, Narcissa suspected she could do it even better than Lucius did.

Narcissa had not heard Lucius’ voice this night, only Bella’s, which was not uncommon as Bella sometimes spoke to her cat, Faustus. Narcissa assumed, then, that Bella was alone downstairs, and that the dark-haired man would not come tonight. In fact, Narcissa knew he wouldn’t because her aunt had come to stay with them again, along with that horrible child of hers. The man never came when they were in the house.

Narcissa suspected this was because of her cousin. No one much trusted Sirius. He didn‘t act like a Black at all, and his reputation in society was just dreadful. There was hope, though, that his lineage would overcome his oddity, and with Mother’s help, he might still be married to a girl of sufficient social standing. It was, naturally, their duty to look after the interest of the family, though Narcissa doubted she'd have bothered with the scruffy hooligan if she were Mother. It wasn't as if he appreciated their sacrifice on his behalf.

She doubted he had ever paused to think how his behaviour reflected on them or how horrible it was for Narcissa, herself, to be asked about their relation while in public. He likely had never once considered how dreadful it was when the resulting blush ruined her pretty complexion, or that she had to force a laugh and lie and say she rarely saw him and certainly wasn’t well acquainted with him.

Such a horrid, selfish boy.

Despite the risk of being caught by unpleasant company, Narcissa decided she would not ignore the summons of her sister's presence, and so she slipped from her bed and reached for her satin slippers. She'd found that, though they sometimes caught in her gown or made her slip on the hardwood, they were very good at muffling the sound of her footfall. She pulled them on, bunching the silk of her nightgown in her long, delicate fingers, and crept from her bedroom.

The old house was never really quiet, though Narcissa knew its every creak and groan and ignored them all. She knew to sidestep the floorboard at the end of the hall, and she knew that the fifth step from the bottom squeaked and would avoid it.

The doors to the lounge were open only a crack, as if in invitation, and Narcissa crept toward them, breathless with anticipation, to peer inside.

A single sconce burned within, above Father’s writing desk, casting the lowering haze of smoke that hung in the room an unearthly golden hue. And there, spilled over the largest of the couches, was her Bella. She glowed. The very breath she expelled was gilded as the cigar smoke that poured lazily from between her lips caught the light. Narcissa sighed and let her head rest lightly against the edge of the door.

She felt she could have stayed forever, watching all the curious little things that made Bella Bella; like the way she rose with a feline stretch to sit up and reach for the paper Father had left sitting on the end table near her feet. She and Faustus moved so similarly, as if the one was mimicking the other; though the movement seemed so natural in Bella, Narcissa sometimes wondered if the big black cat was Bella’s shadow and not the other way around. The old gib was nowhere to be seen, though.

Narcissa had been so focused on her sister, she hadn’t thought to check the rest of the room for occupants. She shifted, so that the crack showed her more of its interior, and found Lucius was there, after all, sipping the scotch meant for proper company. Narcissa would have been more put out at its waste if Lucius didn’t seem to so thoroughly appreciate its quality. Bella had a tumbler at hand as well, and she took a much larger and less interested draw of it after tossing the paper she read to the floor, seemingly bored with its contents.

“Has anyone ever told you you sit like a whore, Bella?” Lucius asked conversationally, wincing agreeably at his glass as he took another sip.

Narcissa couldn’t quite contain the small, angry sound of protest that sprang from her lips, and Lucius raised an eyebrow lazily in the direction of the door, though he gave no further indication that he noticed anything amiss as Narcissa drew back out of the light. The young woman succeeded in swallowing her sigh of relief without voicing it this time.

Bellatrix gave a short sigh of a laugh in answer to Lucius’ comment, spreading her knees wider still and leaning forward to rest an elbow on one of them.

“No one who wanted to live to see if the accusation bore any truth.”

“Do you often kill people for making casual observations?”

“Only for voicing the wrong ones,” Bella shrugged, leaning back so that her head rested on the cushions behind her, running a hand languidly up her thigh as she did so. Narcissa knew what the look in her eye as she looked at Lucius meant, and she scowled, ignoring the heat that rose to her face. She hated seeing those things, she reminded herself. It most _certainly_ was not why she was here.

“Well,” Lucius drawled, pulling himself unhurriedly to his feet to stride over to his betrothed with a slow step. “I’ve just voiced one. Does that mean you’re going to kill me now?” he asked, looking down from where he now towered over her. Bella’s grin widened, and she shifted to lay longways on the couch.

“Are you saying you’d like me to punish you?” she asked, lifting a bare foot to his thigh, sliding it upward. Narcissa was glad she could not see the thing Bellatrix kneaded with her toes to draw a pleased hum from the smirking man.

“Now, now. You know how this works,” he replied, jerking his walking stick up higher in his grip to extend the hissing silver snake’s head down to her throat and stroke it down its length; and further from there, between her breasts. The totem’s fangs snagged her blouse and pulled it lower to free one of them, and Bella’s breath hitched as she threw her head back to luxuriate in the feel of the cold metal brushing across her now exposed nipple. Narcissa could hardly breathe herself, watching the way her sister writhed.

Lucius lowered a knee to the cushion between Bella’s legs and bent down to her. Rather than pressing his lips to her, however, he seemed to whisper something in her ear which caused Bella to bark out a delighted laugh.

“Again? Already?” she asked him incredulously. Lucius nodded, and Bella was in silent stitches. She sighed, grinning. “We’ve barely been home half an hour,” she remarked. “I think someone must be smitten.”

“Not with me, I feel certain,” he replied, finally laying the cane aside to show her bared breast the appreciation it deserved.

Bella bit her lip and hummed approvingly, squirming beneath his touch. “Well, let’s not delay the show any longer, then.”

Lucius gently deflected her reaching arms, and Narcissa seethed at the ingratitude. She could not even recall the last time Bellatrix had physically touched her.

“I have a better idea,” he told Bella, reaching for his walking stick and rising from the couch entirely. He turned his back on her (the cur) and moved out of Narcissa’s narrow view through the gap in the sliding doors.

“Oh, Lucius,” Bella chuckled, not sounding as if she was trying all that very hard to discourage him, “Don’t tease the poor dear.”

“I’m not,” he told her. “You are. You’re why she’s here, after all.”

Narcissa froze as a silver snake suddenly appeared a few inches from her face, peeking through the crack in the door to stare at her. It seemed to hypnotise her, freezing her in place as Lucius used his walking stick to draw open the doors to the lounge.

“Narcissa,” Lucius greeted her politely with a little bow, “do join us.”

Narcissa’s cheeks were surely splotched with a most unbecoming shade of red. She could feel the blush burn, spreading so far as the tips of her ears.

“I-I beg your pardon.”

She curtsied, her manners automatic, even now; though she could not quite meet his eye, which she realized was rude. She had no idea why she was concerned about such a thing at a time like this.

“I really think I should be returning to bed,” she sputtered, turning to flee; but Lucius wrapped an arm around her shoulder and directed her further into the room instead. She was too terrified and embarrassed to loathe his touch.

“Nonsense. Bella, darling, implore her to stay, won’t you?”

“‘Cissa!” Bellatrix beamed, reaching for her hand.

It didn’t matter that her enthusiasm for Narcissa’s presence wasn’t sincere, that she was playing Lucius’ game with him. Whatever the reason, Bella was looking at Narcissa. Bella was _seeing_ her, and she seemed so pleased. Her smile was like the last glory of the setting sun.

Narcissa felt herself pulled to the settee by some force other than Bella’s tug at her fingers. She lowered herself to the cushion beside her sister, unable to quite pull her eyes away from Bella’s breast which still hung free as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

Bella chuckled at Narcissa’s preoccupation.

“Dearest Cissy,” she remarked, “no wonder you’ve had such trouble deciding on a suitor.” She smiled, giving her a knowing look. “None of them have the endowments you prefer, is that it?”

Having been caught staring, Narcissa tried to look away, but in doing so, she caught sight of Lucius settling in at Father’s desk, watching the sisters keenly. She scowled at him, but Bella placed a hand on Narcissa’s cheek, gently returning her attention to her.

“It’s alright. Just pick the richest one and then do whatever you like in the parlour with the other ladies once the gentlemen disappear to the backrooms. Everyone does it,” she shrugged, and Narcissa’s eyes grew wide. She’d never witnessed the activities Bella alluded to; but then, Mother usually rushed her home at about that time.

“Well, enough of them that you’ll never want for willing company,” Bella amended. She gave Narcissa a sly look and leaned forward to whisper in her ear, making the younger girl’s head swim.

“Would you like to practice now? I know you like to have your form well polished before you perform for others.”

Narcissa gasped, her wide eyes meeting Bella’s narrowed ones. She couldn’t really be suggesting what Narcissa thought she was suggesting.

As Narcissa struggled to form a response, Bellatrix ran a hand languidly down Narcissa’s arm, clouding her thoughts further, to take hold of her hand and gently lift it to Bella’s bared breast. Narcissa did not even attempt to prevent her eyes from falling to where they two touched. What would be the point? Surely, this was just a dream - the sight of her hand cupping Bella was too surreal to be anything other - and dreams did not have consequences.

Bellatrix sighed, her head falling back as her hand fell away, its encouragement no longer necessary as Narcissa’s investigated the shape and texture of her sister’s skin of its own volition.

It was Lucius’ low hum of approval at the way Narcissa fondled the pretty mound of flesh that grounded Narcissa and woke her to the reality of what was happening. If this had been a dream, Lucius would not have been there. Narcissa’s face flushed and she started to pull away when Bella’s hand returned to prevent it.

“Lucius, shush,” she scolded him without pulling her eyes from Narcissa. “She’s shy.”

She would not allow Narcissa to look to him, did not give her the opportunity to object as she leaned forward and pressed her lips gently to Narcissa’s. The younger girl gasped beneath them; but Bellatrix persisted, her kiss soft and inviting, until Narcissa sighed and surrendered.

She had never been kissed before, had once thought that placing one’s tongue in the mouth of another seemed unsanitary and not at all a pleasant exercise. She could not have been more wrong. Bella’s tongue coaxed her lips to part, and Narcissa instinctively pressed hers forward to meet it, the two muscles sliding against each other; the sisters reaching inside one another, sharing breath, simultaneously inspiring and sating their mutual appetites.

Narcissa was convinced she would have floated away if she hadn’t been anchored to the spinning world by Bella’s lips and her arms, her caress that slipped Narcissa’s nightgown from her shoulder so gently, 'Cissa almost did not mark it happening.

Now Narcissa was bared as Bella was, and the older girl mirrored the attention her sister was showing her, bring her palm beneath the downy heft of Narcissa’s breast as if weighing it. But then the caress became a squeeze, and Narcissa reciprocated. She felt the tips of Bella’s long, sharp fingers find her nipple, and Narcissa did the same to Bella, pinching the taut nub beneath her own fingertips sharply even as she gasped under Bella’s similar treatment.

It was not Bella that tugged at the remaining shoulder of Narcissa’s nightgown, but the girl was too preoccupied to object when Lucius settled in behind her on the couch, chasing the falling fabric with a ghostly sweep of his hand. His other wrapped around her to show tentative attention to the breast Bella neglected, and Narcissa moaned softly into Bella’s mouth despite herself.

Bella broke away to smile at Lucius, stretching to peck him on the lips, the both of them still massaging Narcissa’s chest as they kissed so that Narcissa could not focus on her displeasure that Bella’s attention had shifted. Granted, it did not shift for long.

“Here. Like this, little one,” Lucius whispered in Narcissa’s ear. One of his hands found and carefully directed the hand on Bella’s breast to drift lower, guiding Narcissa’s delicate fingers to tease at the hot, slick slit between Bella’s legs as his other hand moved to do the same to Narcissa’s.

Narcissa did not like the touch, did not want it; but she didn’t dare to interrupt Bella’s pleasure by protesting.

Bella moaned and fell to lay back against the cushions, pulling her thighs apart to allow them better access. Lucius used one of his own fingers to press the longest of Narcissa’s deep inside of Bella.

The swollen flesh hugged their digits tightly together, twitched around them as if asking for more. Narcissa was mesmerized, unable to pull her eyes from the sight of her own hand disappearing inside of her sister, causing her obvious pleasure.

“Now curl it gently as you pull it out, ‘Cissa,” Lucius directed her, withdrawing himself from Bella to reach further into Narcissa to demonstrate the effect. Narcissa heard a cry of pleasure fall from her mouth to answer the one she pulled from Bella’s.

Lucius carefully added a second finger to join the first, and without being told, Narcissa did the same to her sister, pushing them both to the hilt with a twist as Bella writhed, causing Narcissa to chase her with her hand to prevent becoming unburied.

Lucius’ fingers inside her were distracting. It was far more pleasant than Narcissa would like to admit, but it made it difficult for her to concentrate on making Bella moan. How many times had she stood at the door and watched as Lucius did this very thing to her, wishing she were the one making Bella gasp and whimper? And now here she was, and the cries that fell from Bella’s lips for 'Cissa were as loud and as plaintive as she had ever spilled for Lucius.

Still, she begged for more.

Without slowing the churning of the fingers lodged inside the blonde girl, Lucius reached over to grasp his walking stick, holding it before Narcissa’s face in clear offering. Despite Bella’s whimper, Narcissa removed her hand from her sister and reached for it, though her fingers shied before touching it, as though she was unsure she was meant to.

“No, no,” Lucius coached patiently. “Go on. Take it. Closer to the end, there’s a good girl.”

Gripping it further up, Lucius pointed the foot of the cane to the place Narcissa’s fingers now neglected, but then he allowed Narcissa to control its plunge.

“Not too deep,” he whispered, pressing the fingers inside of Narcissa deeper still, “or you’ll hurt her.”

Narcissa was almost too overwhelmed to continue. She could scarcely breathe. What Lucius was doing to her made her hot all over, made her limbs all weak and shaky. But this was not supposed to be about Narcissa. This was supposed to be about Bella. The dark haired girl seemed to beg Narcissa with her eyes to do as she’d been told. Narcissa felt unsteady, and she leaned back against Lucius’ chest to stabilise the shudder of her arm as she extended it slowly toward Bella, causing the end of Lucius’ walking stick to slip further inside of her.

Bella moaned, lifted her hips to draw the thing deeper, impaling herself on the length of wood as Narcissa held it stable. Lucius steadily worked Narcissa with his fingers, no longer scissoring them inside but withdrawing them to plunge them back, over and over. Narcissa could feel her hips bucking to meet Lucius’ hand and was distressed because the motion was not strictly voluntary.

“Fuck her with it harder,” Lucius said in a soft growl at Narcissa’s ear; and Narcissa obliged, eliciting a gasped ‘yes!’ from Bella that caused Lucius to groan.

Lucius’ other hand found Narcissa’s breast again and twisted at her nipple painfully, but Narcissa bit her lip to hold back her cry, focusing with all her might on working the ebony length of Lucius’ walking stick in and out of her moaning sister.

“You take to instructions quite well,” Lucius noted approvingly. “Pretty little thing, too, aren’t you?” He released Narcissa’s tit to brush the hair from her neck and press his lips there.

“Lucius, are you trying to make me jealous?” Bella panted between moans.

“Is it working?”

“I don’t know,” Bella muttered through gritted teeth. “Tell me, are we going to visit Rodolphus tomorrow night?”

Lucius took hold of the handle of his walking stick and forced Narcissa’s next thrust further and deeper than she’d dared - with Narcissa’s arm too weak with pleasure to prevent it - and Bella winced in pain. Though, it did not slow the motion of her hips as she twisted herself around the length of wood her little sister was using to penetrate her.

“Careful,” Lucius told her, “or I might decide I like this docile young thing better.”

“Better than what?” Bella asked, her hips suddenly still. Lucius simply smirked.

With a growl, Bella reached down to wrench the walking stick from inside her, yanking it from Narcissa’s grip and tossing it to the floor. Then she rose to her knees and gripped the wrist of the hand Lucius still worked inside of Narcissa and pulled him out of the younger girl.

“And who says you can have her?” Bella challenged. Narcissa lay against Lucius; helpless, confused, at their mercy. “She’s my sister,” Bellatrix growled possessively, making ‘Cissa’s heart flutter.

To demonstrate her ownership, it seemed, Bella plunged her fingers inside of Narcissa, adding a third to compensate for the difference in girth; and she fucked her steadily, glaring at Lucius all the while.

As stimulating as Lucius’ ministrations had been, Bellatrix’ sent Narcissa into raptures, and Lucius had to clap his hand over ‘Cissa’s mouth to muffle her ecstatic cries. She could feel the hardness of his erection poking at her lower back, but she didn’t have the capacity to pay it any mind. Despite how tightly his arm gripped her to him or his hand grasped at her breast, there was nothing in Narcissa’s world except Bella’s hand twisting deeper and deeper as if trying to press itself inside of Narcissa entirely; Bella’s breast swaying closer and closer to Narcissa’s face as her arm worked back and forth. She was so carried away, she almost did not hear the crash in the hallway just outside the door.

Narcissa might not have noticed, but her companions certainly did. Bella withdrew immediately to the other end of the couch and Lucius heaved Narcissa off of him and to the cushions between them. Narcissa was shaking, not yet recovered from their recent activities, but she managed to turn her head toward the open door.

Sirius was there, standing gawk-eyed with his mouth agape. Water and broken glass littered the floor at his feet.

Narcissa was utterly mortified and scrambled to yank her nightgown up to cover herself. To her surprise, Bellatrix reached to assist, wrapping her arms protectively around Narcissa once they had managed to wrestle the silk back over the girl’s breasts. Lucius, meantime, had collected himself, rising smoothly to his feet, looking supremely unruffled once he had run a hand through his hair and yanked on his suit vest to straighten it.

“Was there something we could help you with, dear cousin?” Lucius asked Sirius stiffly.

“You’re all sick,” Sirius muttered once he finally found his voice. He shook his head and took a slow step back from the doorway. “This whole family is sick.”

“Hardly,” Lucius sniffed, stepping forward to situate himself between the girls and Sirius, disrupting the other boy’s line of sight. “Why, consorting with one’s family is the best way to be assured of the pristine lineage of one’s partner.”

“So incest is okay so long as there’s no Muggle blood involved?”

“Naturally,” Lucius shrugged. Narcissa could not see Sirius, but she could hear the disgust in his voice.

“That’s it. I’m done. I’m done with this family, with its pure blood obsession, with all of it. Tell my Mother I’ve gone out. And that I won’t be coming home. Ever.”

Sirius’ angry footsteps echoed down the hallway, and Lucius gave the girls a polite, apologetic look before slipping out the door to chase after him.

Narcissa was undone. She was still shaking from what they’d done, and now she shook even harder, was terrified of what Mother would say when Sirius told on them. At least Bella still held her. She might have fallen apart otherwise.

“Oh, my Darling ‘Cissa,” Bella cooed when Narcissa began sniffling, losing her battle against her threatening tears. “Don’t worry yourself, poppet. He won’t tell anyone.”

Narcissa wiped her eyes and lifted them to her sister. Bella’s expression was as reassuring as her words.

“Lucius will make sure of it. He’s very persuasive,” Bellatrix told her with a crooked smile. “Besides, no one will believe the cad if he does. Why would they trust a blood traitor over two true Blacks and a Malfoy? It will work out,” she concluded.

This soothed Narcissa immensely, and she sighed, settling against her sister to wait for Lucius to return.

“‘Cissa, darling,” Bella whispered after a moment, pulling the girl’s gaze back up to her. “I know you like to watch,” she began, gently brushing the hair from Narcissa’s eyes, “but it isn’t always safe to do so. How about we make a deal, hmm? You stay upstairs when you hear me come home, and if I don’t have company - well, other than Lucius - I’ll come and fetch you, what do you say?”

Narcissa was almost too elated to nod her agreement, and Bella smiled at her enthusiasm.

“Besides,” she said, taking Narcissa’s chin between her fingers to tilt the girl’s head back, “joining in is much nicer than spying through the door, isn’t it?” Then she bent and pressed her lips to Narcissa’s, sealing their arrangement.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't ask me where this depravity came from. I don't even know. Death Eaters are twisted and I need a shower. :p


End file.
